


Sixteen Miles to the Promised Land

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, OTA fic, Post-4x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-4x07 Olicity. Oliver sorts through his feelings about Damien Darhk and Andy Diggle.</p>
<p>"He calls Felicity the second he steps away from the podium, brushing off Alex’s attempts to flag him down, because locking eyes with Darhk for that long has run his blood cold and nothing warms him like she does."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Miles to the Promised Land

_post-4x07. Oliver and Felicity sort through his feelings about Damien Darhk and Andy Diggle. John POV to follow, I think._

_Title from “[With Arms Outstretched](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovuIPNJrpMU)” by Rilo Kiley._

**Sixteen Miles to the Promised Land**

He calls Felicity the second he steps away from the podium, brushing off Alex’s attempts to flag him down, because locking eyes with Darhk for that long has run his blood cold and nothing warms him like she does.

She picks up right away, one of their unspoken habits, but he hears her on the end of a run to Curtis and waits out her techno-babble until she pauses and her voice comes closer. “Oliver?”

“Hey,” the word’s barely out of his mouth before she’s cutting him off.

“Uh oh,” she chimes in knowingly. “You sound like you want to put arrows in people.”

It’s not until she calls it out that he notices his hands are shaking. “Darhk was here.”

“Of course he was, frosty bastard,” her voice drops to a mutter, and he can’t help that it makes the corner of his mouth twitch. “You okay? Do you want me to meet you at home? I’m just about done for the day.”

“No rush,” he assures, heart thudding the way it always does when she refers to the loft as their home. “Finish up, I’ll see you back there.”

She beats him there anyway, and he quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t bother waiting on an explanation before he’s pulling her into his arms, breathing her in and letting the feel of her soft skin against his sap the nervous tension from his whole body.

“I only had one meeting left,” she protests, the words vibrating against his throat as her lips trace too lightly, “and besides, everybody else is teleconferencing in.”

The building she works in used to bear his family’s name, and yet, she’s the first person ever to leave that fancy corner office just to make sure he was okay. The feeling rushes over him like a wave and he’s running his hands up her back into her hair and kissing her deep, swallowing the sound of surprise she makes as he backs her up against the kitchen island, lifting her easily onto the lower countertop.

The kiss is hot and wet and her hands are all over him, so he knows she’s just as desperate for him as he is for her. The thought calms him enough to do things properly, dragging his teeth against her lower lip as he rocks into her, drawing a gasp that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard.

“Oliver,” she breathes his name, pure emotion masking any confusion, and the sound obliterates the last of his defenses.

“I miss you,” he confesses without opening his eyes, dropping his forehead to hers. “I didn’t realize how much I was used to spending all day with you. And I’m so proud of you, your job, you know that I am, but I…”

“I know the feeling,” she adds when he trails off, and his fingers flex where his hands are flattened against her thighs. “I miss having the lair just an elevator ride away.”

The details of her happy memory remind him that he’s got another confession to make.

“Last week, when I left…” he has to meets her eyes then, to make sure understands. Her gaze is knowing, but curious. “I went to talk to John.”

She nods with a little smile that’s still relieved at how they’ve finally patched things up.

“I told him…a lot,” he admits, and she just waits patiently, trailing one hand down to lace through his fingers as the other strokes soothing circles against the small of his back. “I told him that I was worried Ivy Town was the best of it for us.”

Her eyes go wide and he immediately regrets his honesty stomach dropping like a stone. But then she smiles.

“Really, Ivy Town?” Her tone’s a little teasing. “Not that beach in Italy, or ugh, that hotel room in Thailand?”

“No,” he shakes his head, smiling back because he can’t help it. “No, those were great, but it was that house, coming home to you…that was perfect.”

The sentiment makes her eyes go a little sad, but he’s too lost in a memory to take it back, so she pushed him back a little so she can hop off the countertop and tug him by the hand. “C’mere.”

She pulls him to the couch, sitting down and drawing him down beside her. He kicks off his fancy shoes, and slides down to rest his head in her lap, while she snakes a hand around to pull his tie off and undo the top few buttons of his shirt, and it’s like he can breathe again. When she trails her fingernails across his scalp, he practically melts.

“I didn’t used to mind staying out all night, patrolling the city,” he tells her, mouth still loose with honesty. “There wasn’t anything to come home to. John always reminded me of that, whether subconsciously, or right in my face when he was trying to get to me.”

She hums in agreement and waits, like she knows he’s got so much more to say.

“I just, I couldn’t understand his reaction to finding out Andy was alive,” he struggles. “Maybe sometimes I’m too busy saving people, saving this city, to worry about who and what’s actually worth saving.”

“I don’t think you believe that.” She finally speaks up, voice clear and convinced. “Besides, it’s kind of hard to have an objective opinion on people who come back here from the dead, being the one who started the trend and all.”

She’s joking but not really. The guilt at getting a second, third, and fourth shot at this life hangs over him every day, is just a few more pounds on the weight of responsibility he tries to carry.

“In the Green Arrow suit, it’s all about saving the city,” he continues. “Now, in the Oliver Queen suit, it’s all about explaining why the city’s worth saving. It’s not something I’ve considered, until I saw John this week.”

“He’s still in shock,” she says in an attempt to soothe his frazzled nerves. “He’s watched everyone else’s family come back to life over the years, I think, maybe part of him always hoped he’d get lucky too. It can’t be easy for him that it’s so…complicated.”

“He actually said he didn’t know if Andy was worth it,” he tells her again, because it still baffles him a little, and he’s hoping she can him sort through it. She’s smarter than he is, and she’s so good at helping solve his problems. “His own family.”

“Digg’s a father,” she reminds him. “And you and I both know he’s been one since long before Sara was born.”

He nods, thinking back to last week, when John proudly showed him a video from A.J.’s latest Pop Warner game. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of his friend’s nephew when accounting for his reaction to Andy’s return, but he hadn’t truly been able to consider it from this perspective. He is thinking of his family, Oliver realizes, he’s just had to pivot already to putting the next generation first.

“I just..it’s been so hard already” he sighs, helplessness seeping into the words. “And it’s only going to get harder. Seeing Darhk just reminded me how unstable everything still is, how unsafe we all are now. That’s my fault.”

“That is absolutely not your fault.” Her response is immediate and cutting, her hands clench against his skin before they start pushing at him. “C’mon, sit up. I’m going to get us some dinner.”

He actually laughs out loud as she heads to the kitchen, before he realizes she’s just grabbing her phone from the counter.

“I have a perfectly good delivery app, I’ll have you know,” she responds, haughty and defensive. “I can have your favorite Thai food hot and ready in mere minutes.”

“I can just go pick it up, it’ll be quicker,” he offers, but she shakes her head distractedly, returning to the couch to ease into his lap this time. He curls around her as she taps out their order and answers him distractedly.

“Uh uh,” she pouts. She doesn’t have to ask for his order, and even that tiny detail is enough to remind him, for the millionth time, how grateful he is that he walked into her IT office that day. ”Stay with me.”

So he does.


End file.
